


#1 good morning sunshine

by cute_lil_fluff



Series: you love me anyway (stranger things big bang) [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Eleven is part of the Byers family, Fluff, M/M, Photography, obviously, st big bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 02:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10844682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cute_lil_fluff/pseuds/cute_lil_fluff
Summary: Over the years, through the evolution of Will and Mike's relationship, Mike has become a familiar face in Will's photos. There's likely to be new ones take whenever they spend time together, but Will's favourite time to photograph Mike has always in the mornings, when he's in sound mind and Mike is still a sleepy mess.





	#1 good morning sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Stranger Things Big Bang, so it is also posted [here](http://holy-winona.tumblr.com/post/160403643641/you-love-me-anyway-byeler-stranger-things-big) on [my tumblr](http://holy-winona.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also, I was paired up with [@miliebobbybrown](http://miliebobbybrown.tumblr.com/) as my artist, so you can find her work [here](http://miliebobbybrown.tumblr.com/post/160410570590/i-love-you-mike-will-whispers-the-pure)

Will wakes up a lot earlier than Mike, but he's always woken up a lot earlier than everyone. The first few times Mike had stayed over at the Byers' house, it had been a bit of a struggle when Will was wide awake at eight in the morning, expecting Mike to be just as energetic as he was.

He'd gotten used to it, though, as he began staying over more and more often as the years passed by. Will still loved to tease him, though, when he was falling asleep in his breakfast. Will never forced Mike to get up with him, he could quite contentedly sit out on the front porch alone for a few hours, nursing a cup of tea as Mike slept in.

But Mike never wants to miss out on the time he could be spending with Will, and he never wants him to be alone.

Mike's currently still half asleep, head rolled to the side, lips parted against the warm fabric of the pillow that's propping his head up. He's just drifting off once again when he's suddenly startled awake by another camera shutter. He blinks his tired eyes open and lifts his head, looking up at the boy perched on his hips, a knee either side of Mike's ribcage.

Will lowers his camera from his face and rests it gently on Mike's stomach. He smiles down at Mike, sheepishly. “Sorry.” He says; his voice quiet, almost whispering in an attempt not to disturb the calm, early-morning ambience filling Will's small room.

Ever since Will had inherited Jonathan's old camera, Mike's had to get used to being the subject of Will's many photographs. They're not always of him; it's not unusual for El to be featured, and Joyce and Hopper, or the New York trio when they come back to visit in Hawkins, every once in a while.

There's a lot of pictures of their little group, the five of them – Mike, Dustin, Lucas, Eleven and Max. There's a whole collection of them posed as a silhouette in front of a sunset from a few years ago, each photo showing them all in different poses. The best one is one where they're all stood together, arms hooked over shoulder and wrapped around waists.

There's more of them piled up on top of each other in the Wheeler's basement, half asleep on one of their many sleepovers. Or cuddled up together on a blanket under the stars when they'd decided spontaneously to camp out in Lucas' back yard in the middle of spring.

Will definitely prefers to be taking the pictures to being in them, but Mike's able to convince him with his signature pout and puppy dog eyes that Will can never resist. He'll extract the camera from Will's hands and pass it to anyone who's around, pulling the small boy into the frame with him.

Those photos are Mike's favourite, even if there never quite as perfect as when Will takes them, with his skilled eye and artistic mind – whenever they trust Joyce with the camera, the pictures always seem to come out a little blurry. It's obvious that Jonathan and Will didn't get their photographic talents from her.

Secretly, those photos are Will's favourite as well, even if he'll never admit it.

Over the years, through the evolution of Will and Mike's relationship, Mike has become a familiar face in Will's photos. There's likely to be new ones take whenever they spend time together, but Will's favourite time to photograph Mike has always in the mornings, when he's in sound mind and Mike is still a sleepy mess.

There's pictures of him when they're eating their breakfast, or sat out on the Byers' porch wrapped up in blankets and sipping on mugs of tea, or when they're still tucked up together in bed. And they're always Will's favourite.

Will's always got some excuse lined up when he squirms out a sleepy, whiny Mike Wheeler's arms to find his camera – something about Mike's adorable bed head, or the perfect lighting from the big window next to Will's bed, or the dark paint on Mike's walls complimenting his skin tone and bringing out the shine of his eyes.

Mike's never as bothered about it as he likes to let on. The bright enthusiasm burning behind Will's eyes alone is enough to win him over.

Mike just smiles, moving his hands from where they've fallen to Will's knees to rub up and down the boy's thighs, bare skin smooth and cold under his palms. “How many's that now?” Mike asks, sliding one hand up Will's side and down his arm, tugging on his elbow, lightly but incessantly.

With a sigh, Will give in to Mike's silent demand, beginning to comb his fingers through Mike's hair, short fingernails gently scratching at his scalp. He smiles when Mike leans into the touch, turning his head to the side when Will traces the shell of his ear with his cold knuckles.

“So precious.” Will whispers softly, barely a breath of air between them, but Mike doesn't miss it. Mike meets his eyes, face completely open and soft in that way that makes Will feels so safe and warm; it's the same expression that was on Mike's face when he first told Will _“I love you.”_

After a moment of silence, Mike raises his eyebrows up at the boy on top of him, reminding him that his question had been left unanswered. Will has to take a second to remember what the question even was, too distracted by Mike Wheeler being adorable.

“Fourteen.” Will eventually says, using his free hand to pull the camera strap over his head, leaning forward to put it carefully on his nightstand. He sets it down between his copy of _Misery_ by Stephen King, a paper bookmark keeping his place, and a half-empty mug of tea that he'd forgotten to drink hours before.

Mike scoffs, squeezing Will's sides as he shakes his head up at the boy, as much as he can without moving away from Will's hand, still buried in Mike's thick hair. Will squeezes his hair in response, tugging on Mike's roots and making him shudder. “Hey, it's not my fault that you're so pretty. This face needs documenting.”

Mike scrunches up said face when Will leans down once again, pressing his soft _soft_ lips against Mike's forehead, thumbs slowly tracing the lines of his cheekbones. A shiver runs through Mike's skin when a strand of Will's hair falls down and tickles the corner of his eye.

Mike can't resist the urge to reach up and tuck it back behind Will's ear; maybe it's not the most cliché, sappy, typical teen-romance-movie thing he's ever done, but its pretty close. Will rolls his eyes with a small smile. “Really?” He asks, amusement obvious in the tone of his voice and that familiar twinkle in his dark eyes, but on the inside, he's blushing.

Mike just winks, tilting his chin up towards Will's in a silent request for a kiss, and he sighs when Will's lips land on his. Mike lets out a breath through his nose, hot air hitting Will's skin, making him melt against Mike in response. Their chests are pressed together as they breathe in phase, lips matching the rhythm of their hearts.

Both boys hold out as long as they can bear until the demand for oxygen becomes too strong and they reluctantly pull away to breathe. Mike pushes himself up on his elbows to press their lips together again, and again; chaste pecks that leave their lips tingling and their cheeks flushed.

After a few minutes of this, his elbows start to ache and so he lets himself fall down onto Mike, pressing him back against the mattress and tucking his face into the taller boy's neck, cold nose dragging along his hairline. Mike runs his hands over Will's back, fingertips tracing his bony spine, the fabric of one of Hopper's old flannel shirts soft under his palms.

He turns to the side again, cheek pressing against the top of Will's head. He watches as the sun appears above the line of trees outside of Will's window as the world wakes up around them, while Mike's whole world lies silently in his arms. Mike keeps his hands rested on Will's back, and they rise and fall as Will breathes, slow and steady.

Time goes by unnoticed by the pair, until there's a quick knock on Will's door, startling them both, heads snapping to look at the closed door. It's pretty much impossible that its anyone other than Joyce or El or Hopper on the other side, but Will's anxieties run high anyway, making his throat tighten up ever so slightly, his hands clutching onto the fabric of Mike's T-shirt.

Mike instinctively wraps his arms around Will's middle, holding him tight against his chest, silently reassuring him that he shouldn't be scared because he's not on his own any more. Five years may have passed, but the kind of horror that Will experienced doesn't just disappear from someone's mind easily.

“It's just me. Can I come in?” El's sweet voice rings out through the wall, another short knock following, just in case they'd been asleep and she hadn't managed to wake them yet. Will sighs, all of his worries evaporating in an instant, Mike pressing a kiss against his temple before Will sits up and calls back to his sister, inviting her into his room.

She immediately throws open the door and tumbles in, tripping over her own feet as she crosses the room and climbs onto his bed. She scrambles over Mike's legs and falls down beside him on her back. “Good morning!” She shrills, her voice just as bright and blissful as the sunrise.

“Morning El.” Mike rasps, his eyes blinking closed again, her enthusiasm so early in the morning making him feel even more tired than before. “What's up?” He asks, eyes still closed as he speaks, humming when he feels Will's soft fingertips tracing the curve of his nose, pressing lightly against the corners of his mouth, stroking over his lips.

“Mom and pops are out today, some flea market up in Beverly. I was thinking that we could all do something, take a picnic out to the clearing? It's such a nice day!” She says, words flowing into the next as she hurries through her sentences, her excitement distracting her from really thinking about what she's saying.

 _How would you know?_ Mike thinks bitterly, just wanting to go back to sleep. _The day hasn't even started yet._ He goes to voice his thoughts out loud, but he can't be bothered. Instead, he let's his head fall to the side again, forehead resting against El's shoulder. He nuzzles his nose into the scent of Will on the pillowcase – faint hues of his mum's perfume, and the bark of Castle Byers, and the sunflowers growing on the windowsill in the kitchen.

“That sounds fun, El.” Will replies, smiling down at her before leaning over Mike to grab his camera again, not bothering with the strap before he brings it up to his face. He manages to snap a shot of Mike and El next to each other, El smiling up at the lens, Mike's face pressed against the pillow as he breathes slowly, but he startles awake again at the sounds of the shutter.

The sudden jolt of Mike at the sound, the way his eyes spring open again in confusion until he looks up at the camera makes Eleven giggle, eyes squeezing shut as she laughs. Will ignores Mike's gaze in favour of getting another photo of them, Mike looking slightly above the lens, this time, at the camera man, whilst El shows her teeth, laughter lighting up her face.

“You know.” Will says, lowering his camera to rest on Mike's stomach once again, narrowing his eyes down at the pair in front of him. “You two actually look really good together.” Will chuckles to himself as El groans, covering her face with her hands, and Mike reaches out to dig his fingers into Will's ribs, trying to distract him from the growing blush on his cheeks.

“Sorry, sorry!” Will repeats until Mike's hands stop their ministrations, his own hands held up by his head as a sign of surrender. “I get it, not funny.” Will says, there's still a wide grin on his face. He tries to protest when Mike takes his camera, but the older boy just shushes him, a finger on his lips.

Will's too enamoured by the pure concentration on Mike's face, the tip of his tongue poking from between his lips, the slight furrow of his brow, to react when the shutter sounds. After another shutter, Will shakes him out of his Mike-centric daze and takes his camera back, cradling it against his chest like it's his child. “Hands off!” He warns. Mike pouts.

“Are either of you going to stop flirting long enough to make me breakfast?” El asks, eyes flicking between Mike and Will, clapping her hands in the middle of them when they stubbornly keep their eyes locked onto each other's. They give in when they can't help but fall into fits of laughter.

“Of course, El.” Will finally says, climbing off Mike gracefully, still carefully holding his camera, cautious of the face that he hadn't bothered to put the strap around his neck. He puts it back on his nightstand, and pulls on a pair of sweatpants under Hopper's flannel, grabs his abandoned mug and trails out of his room, heading towards the small kitchen.

El leans up on an elbow and calls out behind him. “You'll never guess what I want!”


End file.
